


please do not hurt me, love

by trousers



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Past Abuse, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2014-07-10
Packaged: 2018-02-08 06:56:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1931046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trousers/pseuds/trousers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kieren hadn’t closed the door much harder than usual, but it was loud enough to echo through the silent bungalow and make Simon jump. He’d learnt to read Kieren’s actions, and he knew that a door closed slightly too hard was Kieren’s way of slamming it – Kieren would never do it in his parents’ house for fear of upsetting the delicate peace, but in the bungalow he felt more free to express his frustration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	please do not hurt me, love

Kieren hadn't closed the door much harder than usual, but it was loud enough to echo through the silent bungalow and make Simon jump. He’d learnt to read Kieren's actions, and he knew that a door closed slightly too hard was Kieren's way of slamming it – Kieren would never do it in his parents’ house for fear of upsetting the delicate peace, but in the bungalow he felt more free to express his frustration.

Kieren didn't know about Simon’s internal reaction to the sound of the door. He didn't know about the old fear that began to bubble up in Simon’s gut in anticipation of Kieren's anger. It didn't matter what Kieren was angry about; it was enough that he was angry.

Simon had seen anger so many times, from his father and the senior disciples and his boyfriend in America and his dealer, and he knew what followed it. They had to take it out on someone, and Simon had been nearby. They’d shout, and when shouting wasn't enough, they’d hurt him, and then throw him away.

Even Kieren, kind and true and brave, needed to vent. And here Simon was - nearby. He counted himself lucky that Kieren had, so far, never felt the need to go any further than shouting.

He sat on the edge of the sofa, hands clasped and elbows resting on his knees, and listened to Kieren kicking off his boots (slightly more forcefully than usual) and walking down the hallway (with slightly heavier footsteps than usual). He waited patiently as Kieren made his way into the living room, and looked up for a moment to confirm his prediction that Kieren's face was like thunder.

"Fucking Gary," Kieren said as he came in the door, and the irritation in his voice was all too evident. "Drunk in the middle of the bloody day again, stopped me on my way back here and wouldn't let me past until he’d said his piece."

Kieren talked, and Simon sat where he was and looked at the floor. There was a little round stain on the beige carpet where someone, a long time ago, had spilt a drop of tea and not cleaned it up quickly enough. Simon stared at the stain and reminded himself that just because Kieren was angry, it didn't mean it was going to be like before, when Simon’s dad got angry. Kieren was different. He was just venting.

"Simon! Are you even listening to me?"

Simon started, suddenly aware that he hadn't been paying close enough attention. He looked up at Kieren who had stopped pacing the room and was now standing still, arms crossed and legs planted shoulder width apart, an annoyed expression on his face.

Damage control: "Yeah, yeah. Gary’s a bastard." He smiled weakly at Kieren and dropped his gaze back to the floor – thankfully Kieren was too wrapped up in his rant to chastise Simon further, and went back to pacing the room and complaining about Gary’s lack of civility.

Kieren was tugging off his orange Giveback Scheme bib. Gary must have been on top form today, because Kieren rarely vented for so long or with such vehemence. He hurled the bib to the floor, and Simon couldn't help his flinch. He knew that Kieren had spent most of his life being quiet and meek, unable to express his anger because of his unwillingness to rock the boat, just bottling everything up for the sake of keeping the peace. It was because Kieren felt comfortable with him that he was able to vent like this, rather than internalising his frustration – rationally, Simon knew that, and yet some small, scared, weak part of his mind couldn't help but react with the fear that he’d felt when his father had burst into his room in the dead of night and thrown him out on the street.

Simon thought about his duffle bag hidden in the loft, packed with spare clothes and Neurotryptiline shots. He wasn't planning on using it, didn't _want_ to leave, not with Kieren still around and the best thing that had ever happened to Simon. But he didn't expect Kieren to put up with him forever.

There was just something about Simon that people got tired of, made them turn on him and throw him out. Every day that Kieren let him stick around was a surprise to Simon, and he’d been burnt too many times before not to know to keep supplies handy for when the inevitable rejection eventually came. He was ready to go as soon as Kieren wanted him gone.

Finally finished with his tirade, Kieren threw himself down on the other sofa cushion. Simon didn't dare to move, just sat there, still half expecting Kieren to turn to him and tell him to get the hell out. He snuck a glance at Kieren, who had flopped back on the sofa and was breathing deeply as he calmed down. It looked like the storm had passed; Kieren would feel better now and he wouldn't need to vent his dissatisfaction any more.

"Hey, are you alright?" Simon saw more than felt Kieren's hand was resting on his shoulder, leaning over so he could see Simon’s face properly. "You're so tense, Simon, did something happen?"

It was all Simon could do not to laugh bitterly. _Did something happen?_ Lord. Kieren didn't even know half of what had happened to Simon, and it was best that things stayed that way. Instead, he just looked away so he didn't have to meet Kieren’s eyes. He should have known Kieren wouldn't stand for that, and Kieren's hand on his cheek was enough to make him turn his face back.

Simon couldn't resist obeying Kieren. It felt like it was written into his DNA. He’d always been a follower, always needed to be led, always needed to entrust himself to another, and he’d never felt that more strongly than with Kieren. When Kieren told him to lean back against the sofa, Simon leant back against the sofa.

"Simon, come back to me," Kieren was starting to sound worried now, probably realising all over again what a mess Simon was. "I did it again, didn't I? I'm sorry. I just get so wrapped up in it, so annoyed with Gary’s bullshit. I'm sorry, Simon. I'm not angry with you."

It was amazing. Kieren Walker was the most incredible person Simon had ever met. He was so much more than Simon deserved to even to look at, let alone have feelings for. Simon was graveyard dirt, and Kieren was the sun - but despite the glaring difference between them, Kieren not only tolerated his presence, but even knew him well enough to know that he needed reassurance, and cared enough to provide it.

Kieren slid to his knees in front of the sofa and clasped Simon’s head in both hands, forcing eye contact. "Listen to me," he said, his voice certain and grounding, "I am not angry with you. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Simon croaked. "Sorry."

"Don't apologise! Jesus, Simon, it's my fault. I should have realised I was upsetting you. _I'm_ sorry. Will you forgive me?"

There was something slightly humiliating about being spoken to so carefully, about having to be reassured in such basic terms, but Simon couldn't help but be pathetically grateful to Kieren for humouring him so valiantly.

"I… yes," Simon said, when it became apparent that Kieren was waiting for an answer. The smile that broke out over Kieren's face was beatific as ever; the kiss that he bestowed upon Simon’s forehead a blessing.

Kieren stood up, offering Simon a hand. "I've got an evening shift at the Legion," Kieren said. "Come and keep me company? I don't think it would be good for you to sit on your own in the house all night."

"Okay," Simon agreed. He attempted a smile, and was somewhat surprised to find that it was real. He nodded. "Okay," he said again, more to himself than to Kieren. It was okay. Kieren wasn't angry any more; Kieren was smiling up at him. Kieren wasn't going to make him leave.

Kieren rose up on his tiptoes and kissed Simon closed-mouthed on the lips, and before Simon had the chance to react Kieren was pulling away.

"More where that came from," Kieren smirked mischievously over his shoulder, "after we make it through my shift."

He headed for the front door, and Simon followed closely behind.

**Author's Note:**

> For Ken.
> 
> Title from 10AM, Gare Du Nord by Keaton Henson.


End file.
